Future-Focused Feedback

Last March, I wrote a blog called "How Does Feedback Make You Feel?," which considers the feedback we receive about our singing both from our teachers and from ourselves. Specifically, I asked you all to consider how you provide feedback to yourselves. Do you correct yourself gently, offering adjustments with kindness? Do you encourage yourself to keep trying with confidence that you can improve? Or are you "your own worst critic," giving yourself feedback laced with judgment and cruelty?

To continue the discussion on feedback, I'd like to return again to the article I cited in the last blog: "Building a Foundation of Trust in Vocal Pedagogy" by Matthew Benkert (Journal of Singing, January 2026). Relating to the feedback that students receive from their teachers, Benkert highlights that any perceived shaming of a student from a teacher (even if unintentional) can trigger a subconscious emotional response that can create an obstacle to learning. Interestingly (and, I suppose, unsurprisingly), students without a fully developed prefrontal cortex (like teenagers and young adults—i.e., college students!) are particularly prone to coping "less soundly" with negative feedback (Benkert, p.285). 

This is not just true of singers. Benkert notes a study where students outside of the arts had initial emotional reactions when receiving feedback in a face-to-face setting that was critical of their work (Hill, Healey, West, and Dery, 2021). As he states, "How much more so is this true of musicians who are offering their own voice for critique?" (p.285). I think we have all felt this at one point or another. As discussed in the last blog, since our voices are so personal to us, a critique of our vocal technique can feel like a critique of our selves. Even if we intellectually understand that is not what is happening, our bodies may still have an instant reaction to the critique that can make it more difficult to incorporate the feedback we receive in a positive way. 

So, how can we deal with this? How can we receive critical feedback in such a way that it doesn't send us into a negative emotional spiral? How can we instead get right to the work of incorporation and improvement? 

Well, some of that responsibility is on me (and all of your teachers). We have to be mindful of when and how we are providing feedback and what it is intended to bring about. If I am offering negative feedback—like simply pointing out something you didn't do so well—all that does is create an awareness of something you did poorly. This may help you know what you did wrong, but it also risks eliciting a negative response. 

Instead, I can right away offer potential tactics for increased performance on your next attempt. This gives you something to do the next time and does not just make you aware of something you maybe shouldn't have done the previous time. For example, if you crack on a high note, I could say something like, "You cracked on that high note." That probably doesn't help anything because you were likely already aware of that. It also doesn't offer you a solution. Instead, I could say something like, "You cracked on that high note because you were using too much subglottic breath pressure and failed to shift the dominant muscle from the thyroarytenoid to the cricothyroid as you increased your pitch." This comment certainly provides more information, but again offers no solution. 

A better response might be, "OK, what would happen if you take a smaller inhalation before singing that again? Also, as you go higher, could you imagine that you are still releasing air rather than feeling like you're holding it back?" These comments don't even acknowledge that anything went wrong, which may just be stating the obvious and could initiate an emotional spiral. Instead, they encourage exploration of new tactics, which may lead to improved performance. 

An even better response, especially for students in the second stage of learning, might be to ask, "What did you notice that time around?" This encourages students to engage with the process rather than wait for teachers to provide all the answers. After students have provided their own self-diagnosis, a follow-up question could be, "What do you think we could try that would make that phrase smoother?" Again, this encourages student engagement and involves them in finding solutions rather then dwelling on less-successful attempts. 

As Benkert writes, "The goal should be feedback with a future-focused message, where the student is empowered as an active participant in their learning. This creates an avenue for them to regulate emotional signals as they work toward future professional goals, such as reinterpreting their emotional reaction to an unsuccessful audition rather than dwelling in negativity." (p.285). 

The best news about all of this is that it's a process you can use in the practice room, too. Try something. If it doesn't go as well as you'd have liked, try to identify what could be improved. Then strategize solutions. Then try something different. Consider what "future-focused" feedback you can provide yourself, instead of getting stuck in the moment of failure. 

In what other area of your life might a "future-focused" approach benefit you?

Now go practice. 

Separating the Singer from the Singing

Happy New Year! Let's get right to it. 

Usually my first blog of each semester focuses on some aspect of goal setting. As we know, having specific goals (not too vague) that are achievable (just outside of your current capabilities) and written down (not just kept in mind) is a reliable way to move toward improved performance. Let's talk in your lessons about what specific technical and artistic goals you may want to work toward this semester. 

For this first blog of 2026, I was encouraged by an article in the most recent Journal of Singing to consider making an additional goal for the semester. In a piece titled, "Building a Foundation of Trust in Vocal Pedagogy," author Matthew Benkert explores how our identities as singers can become intertwined with our feelings of self worth. As such, negative feedback about our vocal performance can be taken as criticism of who we are as people. This is something I'll discuss further in a later blog. To help prevent this from happening, Benkert suggests working to create a positive environment in voice lessons such that "the singing is separated from the singer." Why? As he says, "Without acknowledging and valuing the student for their humanity, there is little chance the student will value themselves, particularly when receiving feedback in a vulnerable learning environment." 

So, how can we create a healthy separation of our voices from our selves? Benkert offers some advice: "First, it is important that the student be treated as an individual first, then as a musician." Although this applies to how teachers relate to their students, it also applies to how we treat ourselves. We all have a multiplicity of identities, all of which intersect in unique ways that contribute to who we are. We all have values and ideals, morals and guiding principles that influence how we see ourselves in the world and that inform how we behave. In my case, I identify as a husband, son, sibling, friend, citizen, mentor, teacher, and, yes, singer (among other things). I'm a work in progress in all of these areas. I can recognize times when I have not been as good of a son or friend as I could have been, just as I can recognize times when I have not been as good of a teacher or singer as I am capable of. Those instances don't make me a bad person—they make me a PERSON. Building relationships takes time and attention, just like building vocal skills. And there is no final destination to reach, since we are always evolving. 

When you step into your voice lessons, you don't stop being all the various parts of who you are. You bring that along with you, which is exactly what you should do. I have often said that your voice is not your art. It's only the vehicle through which you bring your art to an audience. Your LIFE is your art. When you live a life of openness, curiosity, conversation, exploration, and relationship, you build a reservoir of deep experiences (both positive and negative) that form who you are. Once you know who you are and who you want to be, and determine the values that stem from each of your identities, you tend to act accordingly. 

The amalgamation of these experiences (who you are) is what you bring to your performances—not just your vocal capabilities. In fact, in my opinion, the only reason to cultivate and build our vocal capacities is so that we are better able to communicate what we know and feel in our hearts. If forced to choose, I would always rather watch a performance of someone with a less-polished voice expressing something heartfelt than someone with pristine tones who doesn't have much to say. 

Of course, as we all know, our vocal instruments certainly do require both training and care, especially if we are to build sustainable careers. But, if we become bound to our voices in such a way that it keeps us from having relationships and experiences, it comes at the expense of developing our artistry (our lives). 

The good news is that you don't have to abandon your routine and your schedule in order to seek out life-altering experiences so that you might build an artistic life. Mother Teresa is credited with having said, “Not all of us can do great things, but we can do small things with great love.” Every day we are surrounded by opportunities to have meaningful experiences (or to be the impetus for meaningful interactions). All we have to do is be open to them and have the courage to pursue them. 

So, alongside establishing some goals to help build your technique and creativity this semester, what are some goals you have to build your artistry? In other words, how can you be more intentional about making the experiences of your days and your relationships with others more meaningful and, thus, your life more of a work of art? 

Let's have a great semester. 

Now go practice. 

Pursuing the performing arts

World-renowned opera singer Renée Fleming is concerned about how I sleep at night. 

OK, that's not exactly true. But she offered some strong opinions on performing arts education earlier this summer at the Voice Foundation Annual Symposium in Philadelphia. Here's what she said: 

Given the climate right now for opera and classical music performance—which is what I know—I think there are far too many universities and colleges taking money from young people who shouldn’t be. I’m sorry, but it’s true. And what’s criminal about it is that . . . I mean, somebody recently said to me there should be an antitrust suit. These kids will all have debt—terrible debt—when they get out of school.

I used to give master classes at small schools—I don’t anymore—but I’ve done it. And sure, there’s the occasional miraculous talent. But even those students, if they don’t get on the right track quickly, by their late 20s, the possibilities start to decline significantly.

And then I hear people who really have no business majoring in voice—but the schools take them anyway. I once asked someone at a major conservatory, “How do you sleep at night?” I know that was a bit harsh. But he said, “Well, you know, a lot of people use that degree to go on and then major in something else.” And I thought, Wow. Given what secondary education costs, that’s a bit rich.

I know that this is what she said because I was there when she said it. Literally, I took this picture (that's her on the right): 

As often happens at these conferences, you take in a lot of information and hear some big ideas. But, as also happens, the daily schedule is so packed that you can't linger too long on any one presentation because there are so many others to get to. So, I remember having some thoughts on what she said, and I had a brief discussion with some colleagues as to their thoughts, but then we moved on. 

A couple of months later, however, author Norman Lebrecht published Ms. Fleming's comments on the classical music website Slipped Disc. After that, it was widely shared on social media, which really got people talking. 

First of all, I have a tremendous amount of respect and admiration for Ms. Fleming. I have seen her perform live many times (in operas and in concerts) and I own several of her CDs (yes, CDs) that I still hang on to even though most of those recordings are available digitally now. So when she speaks about her experience as a professional in the industry, I generally listen. But, of course, people can have different opinions. 

Second, it's important to note that she is talking about people who study classical performance in college. Classical music audiences have been shrinking for some time. Tuition at many of what are recognized as top conservatories is usually quite high. So it is wise to consider the full value of that education and the prospects of professional success, which are often less guaranteed for performance majors than for those who choose other fields. So cost/benefit considerations are a crucial factor when making such a big decision as where to go to college and what to major in. 

If Ms. Fleming has run into people who are essentially guaranteeing students that they will have performing careers, or misleading them about their potential for success (though that can be difficult to determine when someone is 18 years old, especially when it comes to the voice), then I agree that it would be reckless (or even possibly "criminal," as she says) to make such claims. As we all know, abilities are only one component of sustained success in this field. No one should say, "If you come study at this school, you will have a performing career." 

I do take some issue with a few of her comments, however, that undeniably come from my experience (and probably my bias and privilege). I went to a small school for college. To be sure, I have not had anywhere close to the performing experience that Ms. Fleming has had (literally, not even 0.001%). But I also know that my education at that small school absolutely prepared me for my career in music and theatre (humble though it may be), as did my other two degrees in performance (only one of which was from a big conservatory). So I tend to think that even those of us without "miraculous talent" deserve to pursue the field we want and see where it may lead. 

I also understand her concern that college administrators might accept someone with less "talent" into a performing arts degree with the justification that they will probably also major in something else. It seems the assumption is that they will ultimately pursue other career paths. That can feel disingenuous. As university employees, we must be honest about what the field looks like and we have to help students assess their capabilities and their progress in relation to the general expectations of professional success. 

However, I also believe that arts education should be available for everyone who wants to pursue it—especially if they have the volition, desire, and willingness to put in the effort (and get some good sleep as best they can). I believe in this because of the way arts education forms human beings while also, yes, making them eminently employable in a variety of fields. 

As I blogged last year at this time, artists learn and practice empathy and authentic communication, and must have a willingness to be vulnerable. Through their performances, artists bring examples of deep beauty and true strength to audiences, which goes beyond mere entertainment or distraction. These skills are desperately needed both in our society and in our places of employment. 

Of course, not everyone needs to go to college. And there are lots of problems with higher education, the most obvious being that it is way too expensive. At the prices many schools are charging, students (and parents) should want to know what skills, opportunities, and jobs that high-priced education might provide. After all, landlords don't accept sonnets in place of rent. It would be wonderful to spend your college years discussing great books, learning world history, creating art, and (even more importantly) building relationships with people who will support you, challenge you, love you, and help you see the world differently. But bills don't wait. 

That being said, if someone wants to study the performing arts, I don't think they should be told they have "no business" pursuing that major. Certainly, both risks and benefits should be considered, and taking on debt that would be prohibitive over a lifetime should probably be avoided. But this is a field worth pursuing, which can provide both a good living and a good life. 

I'm sleeping just fine. 

I'm looking forward to this homestretch of the semester. What final touches are you still hoping to bring to your performances? 

Much love.

-brian

Reinforce

There is one final step left to explore in “The Four Rs of Effective Practice.” When you establish your resolve, resolve on a plan of action, repeat that plan of action, and refine that plan of action, the final step is to reinforce. This is where you really start to strengthen, bolster, and shore up your skills. 

Initially, this may involve rote repetition, allowing your body and brain to experience a successful pattern enough times for it to become familiar. As the skill begins to take hold, reinforcement can progress to include variability. In a way, that process is similar to the “refine” step but in reverse—taking a successful strategy and introducing confounding or interfering elements to see if the success can be maintained. This may come in the form of singing an exercise with different vowels or words, with a more complicated melodic pattern, or with varying dynamics.

You can also introduce physical movements as ways to reinforce, maybe seeing if you can execute the skill while walking backward just as well as when standing still (or maybe while doing the worm breakdancing move). You may try interspersing other vocal exercises between iterations of the exercise you're trying to reinforce. You may start to change your surroundings or circumstances by singing in different rooms, singing at different times of day, or singing in front of audiences of different sizes. This variability will reinforce the skill and start to solidify it within your capabilities, moving it into the 3rd stage of learning (the automatic stage). 

To reiterate some of what I said when I started this series of "The Four Rs of Effective Practice," practice is a crucial component for improving vocal skills, but it can also be challenging and difficult to find the motivation to do. To once again quote author Joanie Brittingham in Practicing for Singers: A Guide to Solid Practice Habits, “While practice habits are only a small part of what is required for a successful singing career, they can be some of the easiest things to correct.” (viii)

Rosenberg and LeBorgne offer some final pertinent advice in The Vocal Athlete: Application and Technique for the Hybrid Singer:  

"Vocal pedagogy is not about learning a broad recipe of exercises to use systematically across all students. Voice pedagogy is about choosing exercises that are appropriate not only for the moment but also for the long-term development of the student. It is about recognizing when a student requires modification or adaptation, knowing when to push a student, and when to pause." (xiii)

“The Four Rs of Effective Practice” is not a “recipe of exercises” or a checklist. It's a process of exploration. By keeping them in mind, you probably won't ever have to wonder what you should be doing in the practice room. Just start by committing to your resolve, resolve upon a plan of action for the skill you want to address, repeat the decided-upon strategy, refine either the implementation of that strategy or the strategy itself, and reinforce what leads you to success. 

Now go practice. 

Refine

Continuing through "The Four Rs of Effective Practice," singers can first find their resolve (determination), then resolve on a plan of action, then implement and repeat that plan of action. 

If strict repetitions (and the natural variations that come with repeated attempts) aren't leading to success, the next step is to refine how you implementing the strategy—in other words, changing something about the way you are performing the exercise. Since singing involves many systems (for example, respiration, phonation, resonance, articulation, etc.) all of which are interacting in a non-linear manner, every strategy may have lots ways in which it can be performed. As Rosenberg and LeBorgne state in The Vocal Athlete: Application and Technique for the Hybrid Singer, “There are many ways to approach the same vocal problem or issue. A teacher must be prepared to modify and adapt in the moment as needed.” (xiii) Singers can similarly modify and adapt during practice sessions. 

Refining the execution of an exercise may involve checking in on these various systems for levels of balance. Maybe there is too much engagement in one system (hyperfunction) or not enough engagement in another (hypofunction). Maybe extraneous tension is interfering with the process. If so, refining the implementation of your strategies, and then repeating the refined implementation, may help move you closer to your target. 

If refining the implementation is not leading you in the desired direction, the strategy itself can be refined. For instance, if the exercise is performed on a certain vowel, maybe changing to another vowel would be useful. If the new vowel seems to help, you can gradually start shifting back toward the original vowel as your system calibrates—taking what works and moving it in the direction of what isn't working. If the strategy involves the use of a semi-occluded vocal tract exercise (SOVTE) like a lip trill or a voiced consonant, shifting to a different SOVTE, like straw phonation, may improve your performance. 

These sorts of refinements are not wholesale changes to your original strategy—they're simply adjustments. The core of the exercise remains intact as you start to introduce subtle tweaks. Of course, as you refine your strategies, each adjustment may require multiple repetitions to find success.

If multiple attempts, refinements, and additional attempts are not leading to desired results, an entirely new strategy may be needed. Rosenberg and LeBorgne again offer advice for teachers in these situations that singers can also use in the practice room:

If the exercise ultimately does not yield the intended outcome, it is incumbent upon the teacher to reassess and modify to suit the specific needs of the student, for it is the process that is important, not a specific exercise. We encourage you to explore and experiment . . . Take what is useful and modify and adapt to the needs of your students. (xiv)

In this case, you can go back to the first “R” of effective practice and resolve upon a new plan of action. Although it can feel like failure to have to start all over again, all of these investigations provide a body of evidence that can inform your future choices. Each ineffective strategy you identify could mean you are one step closer to finding the strategy that will work. 

I admit that the work of finding the right strategy can be tedious and frustrating business. A strategy that may have worked for you a month ago may not be working as well today. A strategy that seemed to work in your lesson or in class may not work as well when you are on your own. These are situations where you may, once again, need to tap into your resolve. 

When you find yourself in one of these dead ends, it may help to consider yourself like a detective solving a mystery. You develop an informed theory based on the evidence and clues you have access to. One by one, you start to follow useful clues until you finally find the missing piece that leads you to resolve (there's that word again) the case. This approach can empower you to use your practice time to explore, make informed choices, and enjoy the thrill of discovery. 

Now go practice. 

Repeat

In the first two blogs this semester, we've covered the first R in "The Four Rs of Effective Practice," which has two parts. The first definition of resolve is “firmness of purpose or intent; determination,” meaning we should acknowledge that practice can be difficult to commit to and then find our resolve/determination to go forward with it anyway. The second definition is “to come to a determination. . . to resolve on a plan of action.” As this relates to practice, we should decide what specific goal or technique we are going to work on and what exercises we will use to reach that goal. 

Once a goal has been identified and a strategy has been resolved upon, the next step is to implement the strategy. In other words, try it out and see how it goes. Naturally, this is likely to result in one of two outcomes: success or failure. 

When we are successful, this is when we implement the second R: repeat. Successfully executing a technique one time does not mean it has been added to your skill set. You need to repeat it to really build consistency. Eventually, you will need to add obstacles or "desirable difficulties," like trying it in a higher range or on a different vowel or singing it in front of people. This is what moves you into the automatic stage of learning and solidifies the skill. 

What do we do when failure occurs? If a strategy doesn't lead to immediate success, it may simply need more repetitions. Given human imperfection, no iteration of any task will be exactly the same as any previous (or subsequent) iteration. Even when attempting to perform a task in the same way, subtle differences are likely to occur. By giving a failed attempt additional repetitions, it allows the body to make subconscious adjustments that may make success more probable. When success is elusive, as the cliché states, we should try, try again. 

There is plenty of research highlighting the benefits of repetition in various situations, like when learning a language, learning how to read, and expanding vocabulary. Author Tony Kenler calls repetition "the heartbeat of progress." He highlights how our brains mold and adapt as a result of repetitive experiences due to neuroplasticity, which allows our brains to create new neural pathways and strengthen existing pathways. 

Repetition, therefore, helps us ingrain both new and existing techniques. But it can also help us commit to regular practice sessions. As described in Psychology Today, habits are built through repetition, such as when someone is pursuing a goal. This is done when we start to associate certain cues with certain behaviors. For instance, you may decide that, every time you get out of your Monday/Wednesday class at 4:20pm, you'll go practice. After doing this for a while, you may start to feel a pull to go practice every Monday/Wednesday at 4:20pm, even when the semester is over and you no longer have that class. This is just one of the benefits of having regularly scheduled practice times—the repetition leads to a habit. 

Of course, repetition takes patience. My former teacher, Dr. Robert Harrison, relates a story in Voices of Influence about the exercises he used to help young tenors develop their high range by descending through the passaggio on a falsetto [u] vowel. "Young teachers, including myself, were always disappointed if that exercise didn’t fix the issue the first time,” he says. “How loony! But by training the muscles over a period of time, the change occurred.” Try, try again. 

The directions you can find on most shampoo bottles read, "Lather, rinse, repeat." You probably don't have to do this more than once in the same shower session, but if you want luscious hair (and who doesn't?), you'll likely have to do it more than once a week. The research on repetition seems to imply that the shampoo bottle is offering wise advice. Learning requires repetition. Building regular practice habits also requires repetition. 

Now go practice. Then repeat.

Resolve, Part 2

In the last blog, I presented the first definition of “resolve.” When used as a noun, its definition includes, “firmness of purpose or intent; determination” (Dictionary.com). Knowing that practice routines can be hard to consistently stick to, it can help to consciously commit to our resolve and simply decide to do it. 

The second meaning of resolve is also an important step in effective practice. When used as a verb, resolve means “to come to a determination; make up one’s mind . . . to resolve on a plan of action” (Dictionary.com). This gets to the specifics of what you decide you want to work on, what goals you hope to achieve, and what tactics and strategies you will use to reach those goals. So, once you have found your resolve (determination), you should resolve on a plan of action. 

The first step is to decide what you want to accomplish. Think back to the goals you articulated in the last blog. Once you’ve identified a specific skill you want to work toward, you need exercises that are designed to target that skill. We all know that this is how physical strength is built. If you want to develop core strength, you have to do exercises that target that area. If you want to build your biceps, squats aren’t going to do that directly. But, when it comes to vocal practice, we often just default to whatever exercises come to mind or whatever ones we’re most familiar with. 

If you’re not sure what exercises to use to work toward your goals, your teachers can help. In the book The Vocal Athlete: Application and Technique for the Hybrid Singer, authors and voice pedagogues Marci Rosenberg and Wendy D. LeBorgne state, “A vocal exercise is only effective if the teacher has firmly established the intent and purpose of that exercise for a given student’s vocal needs/development/growth.” And the more specific your goal is, the more likely we are to come up with targeted exercises for that goal. 

That being said, don’t discount your own intuition. Often, it’s not the particular pattern of notes that make an exercise well-suited for a certain purpose. Rather, it’s the intention you bring to performing the exercise. When you are clear as to what you are working on, a variety of exercises can help you improve in that area. So don’t be afraid to experiment on your own and see what may come of it. Even if it doesn’t lead to the success you’re hoping for, it will continue to inform you about your own voice and how it works. 

The opposite of resolve (choosing specific exercises to build specific skills) is mindless vocalizing. Maybe that means singing through a list of “warm-ups” without a clear idea of what each exercise might be intended to accomplish. Or maybe it’s running through your songs from start to finish without any particular game plan in mind. Voice professor Lynn Helding calls this “roadkill practice” (“I ran over my music.”). As I’ve mentioned, this can help reinforce certain habits, but it is not a way to build skill or explore new creative options. 

Consider starting each practice session this week with a particular goal. Work on that for 5 to 10 minutes. Switch to a different goal and work on that. If you need ideas for what exercises might facilitate this work, I’m here to help. 

Find your resolve. Then resolve on a plan. 

Now go practice.